Auld Langxieties
by Powerprof
Summary: The second part of the PPG Christmas Trilogy. Bubbles decides to get a certain simian archvillain a Christmas present. Stuff happens.


**"Auld Lang-xieties"**

By Powerprof

_Note: this story stands on its own; however, it is a sequel to 'Same Time Next Year' and 'The Professor's Present', events and situations from which are referred to herein. _

I.

Bubbles burst through the front door of the house and out into the brilliant sunlit sky. Below her, the kids of Pokey Oaks suburb were frolicking in last night's snow with their mittens and coats some of which were probably presents they'd opened a few hours ago on this stunning Christmas morning. Townsville doesn't get snow very often. Some of the kids had improvised sleds out of the boxes that had hours before contained some of their other presents. Bubbles had just spent a few minutes drawing Christmas scenes depicting the Professor and her sisters with a new box of crayons. She had known she was going to get them. Two days ago she had used her super-vision to sneak a peak at some of her presents. Unfortunately, the Professor had awakened her so early this morning that she'd inadvertently revealed her trickery and now, as a mild _ad hoc_ punishment, she had to go answer a call for help while Blossom and Buttercup fared sumptuously on the Christmas morning repast the Professor had whipped up.

'_Buttercup, you meany!'_ she thought as she headed south. When the call came in, the mayor - did he ever go home? - was quite apologetic for troubling the Powerpuff Girls on Christmas morning. An ambulance driver in transit to the hospital with a woman in labor had been driven off the road by a careless driver. It was Buttercup who suggested that this emergency would only require one of them, and then looking at Bubbles, said archly, "I know which one of us should go; the one who spoiled the surprise about her new crayons." Buttercup the Instigator's obvious delight with this idea notwithstanding, the Professor agreed, but promised Bubbles that no one would open anymore presents until she got back and that he'd save plenty of food for her.

Bubbles sighed, and fumed a bit more, but the morning was so beautiful she couldn't stay angry for long. The snow had completely transformed the otherwise familiar landscape. It had made everything so lovely that Bubbles mused about taking her time getting home after taking care of the emergency. When she got to the scene, she waved to the people inside and then motioned upwards with her hand. The ambulance driver and the EMT tending the pregnant woman gave an "A-Ok" sign, and Bubbles lifted the entire ambulance into the air and delivered the precious cargo to the hospital faster than the ambulance could have gotten her there even without the mishap. After receiving the gratitude of all concerned for coming to their aid on a holiday, she headed back. Bubbles was so happy to have done such a good work this morning she'd almost forgotten to be mad at Buttercup. But not completely. She would definitely take the long way home, and Buttercup would have to wait that much longer to open her remaining presents.

Townsville's metro area was deserted and Bubbles weaved in and out of the buildings drawing off streams of crystalline snow in her wake. She noticed the trail of snow, thought for a minute and then giggled merrily as she began pulling spiral patterns in the air with it. Whooshing in an out of all the trees she could spot, she looked over her shoulder to watch with delight as her wake of compressed air scattered the snow on their drooping branches like seeds from a dandelion. _'The park!'_ she thought. _'Lots of trees there!'_ Just as she began a power dive into the park she noticed something; a lone and lonely figure trudging toward the volcano. It was Mojo Jojo. He seemed to be walking slowly and with some discomfort.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS, MISTER MOJO!" she said not realizing where Mojo had been the evening before, and how he'd spent the night getting thoroughly schnockered at an unusual Villains' Christmas Eve Party. To Mojo it sounded like every church bell in the world going off simultaneously inside his head.

"QUIET YOU MISERAB …. Argggghhhhhhhh!" he bellowed, and then immediately thrust his hands over his ears as his own voice thundered in them. "Currrr-ses," he then muttered achingly under his breath, and even that came through quite clearly. Bubbles flew down to hear what Mojo was saying. Mojo was less than thrilled to see her this morning. "Go away," he said whispered. "Beat it, leave, vamoose, get lost, scram, matriculate your person elsewhere, so that you are not here."

"WHAT?" Bubbles asked innocently as Mojo went down on his knees in pain. "WHY ARE YOU TALKING SO QUIETLY?"

"Because," he snapped, and then said softly as he began ascending the stairs to his lair, "having ingested of several libations last evening containing high quantities of ethanolic congeners, I am suffering from acute dehydration which has resulted in an excess buildup of toxins in my metabolic pathways thus rendering me highly irritable. Therefore, if you continue to use any form of verbal, auditory, spoken communication, with me, in any way, shape or form, I shall have to destroy you forthwith, you annoying little Powerpuff Gull. Now go away!" And with that he slammed the door to his lair shut, screamed in pain and then bellowed 'CURSES!' so loud even Bubbles could hear it through the dome. This was followed by audible whimpering over having shouted 'Curses!" too loudly.

II.

Bubbles arrived home still perplexed about why Mojo, aside from the fact that he was an evil villain, would be so grumpy on Christmas morning.

"And just where have you been?" Buttercup groused. "You've been gone for over an hour."

"Took the long way home, huh?" Blossom smiled.

"Well, it's sooo beautiful out there," said Bubbles as she stuck her tongue out at Buttercup. "Oh, and I saw Mojo on the way home."

"What was he doing?" asked the Professor.

"He was headed back to his home. I guess he was gone all night."

"And up to no good, no doubt," said Buttercup.

"I don't think so," Bubbles replied. "He just seemed really, really cranky."

Everyone just looked at her.

"More than usual," she added.

"Ah," said the rest of the family.

"Did you talk to him?" asked Blossom as Buttercup handed her a present to open.

"Yeah, and he seemed kind a sick too," Bubbles nodded.

"What did he say?" asked the Professor as he gave Bubbles some mint cocoa and chocolate dipped almond lace cookies.

"Something about liberated indigestion building a toxic sick-ul-ation because of ethnic con-jer-gations …"

"Oh ho," said the Professor as enough similarity between what Bubbles was saying and words Mojo might use got through. "I think I get it. Bubbles, did Mojo seem to have a headache or anything? Did noises of any kind bother him?"

Bubbles nodded emphatically.

"I see. Well, I think we can theorize how Mojo spent his Christmas Eve."

The Professor explained, and Bubbles felt very sorry for Mojo or for anyone who would spend such a wonderful holiday time like that. Then, getting back to the business of the morning, she opened the rest of her presents. While she did, she found herself wondering if Mojo had ever gotten a present on Christmas. Probably not, she thought, and maybe Mojo didn't like Christmas because of it. She almost thought about leaving right then and buying him something, but then remembered that all the stores were closed, and Mojo was clearly in no mood for visitors today.

"Perfess'r," she said, "will you remind me next Christmas to get Mojo a present?"

"Wha …? That's crazy," said Buttercup. "Mojo hates us. And he hates Christmas. He hates anything good."

"I have to agree with Buttercup, Bubbles," said Blossom as she flipped through her new World Atlas. "Mojo spends all his time trying to destroy us and take over the town. He's not interested in peace and goodwill to all."

The Professor smiled consolingly. "Well, Bubbles, that's a very sweet idea, and I'll try to remember to remind you. But I'd have to agree with the girls. Where Mojo is concerned you're probably wasting your time … and your effort … and your sheer sweetness," he said as he lifted her up and hugged, kissed, and tickled her, making her giggle.

"Hey!" smirked Buttercup, "I've got an idea! You can just ask Santa to leave Mojo something beside coal for Christmas next year."

"Our Buttercup," the Professor replied. "We can always count on you to throw ice water in Bubbles' oatmeal." And then he pounced, tickling her as well. Blossom joined in and after a bit of roughhousing, they opened the rest of their presents, and then ended up over by the fire place burning the packaging while the Professor read some selections from A Christmas Carol. As he did, Bubbles began seeing Mojo in the part of Scrooge, herself and her sisters as the ghosts that haunted him, and thought about the possibility that Mojo could make a good end like ol' Ebeneezer did.

"And so," the Professor finished, "as Tiny Tim observed …" And then they all recited the final line together:

"God Bless Us, Every One!"

Bubbles came away from the morning her joy satisfied with all the presents, the pleasure of a good deed done, and the love, warmth and joy of her family. But still she was puzzled by Mojo's behavior. What harm could it do to get him a present, she thought? So she determined that next year she would do something for the dour, dark, super-genius chimp, no matter what. She went upstairs, taking her red and green crayons with her, got out some paper and wrote a letter to Santa that she would mail later in the coming year.

The letter went thusly:

Dear Santa,

Please get a present for Mr. Mojo Jojo this year. I know he is bad all the time and doesn't deserve one. Would you please do it for me? Maybe if he got a present he wouldn't be so mean and evil and stuff all the time.

Signed,

Bubbles

III.

The year that followed was very eventful. The days and nights and seasons came round and round and the girls lived and loved and quarreled and were reconciled. They battled evil and saved the day many times and there was even mischief of their own making. Mojo the Mad was quickly back to his old self, plotting and planning and precipitating many tough fights with those three little furies that thwarted his twisted villainy at every turn. Many times the girls were hard pressed by Mojo, but they always managed with teamwork and courage to beat him. And after each Mojo battle, Bubbles found herself remembering the letter she had written last Christmas. Sometimes she'd crumple the letter up and throw it away, agreeing that it was a waste of time. But she'd always come back a few days later and fish it out of her waste paper basket. Once, the Professor beat her to it, and unintentionally threw the letter out while cleaning the girls' room. So Bubbles recreated the letter, word for word.

As autumn passed, she began to give serious thought to what sort of present Mojo would like. She even added a few suggestions for a present to the final version of her letter and then one morning she mailed it in the hope that Santa would come through. The postman came by a few hours later, and Bubbles smiled as she saw him put the special letter in his satchel. She followed him with her eyes until he was well down the block. Just as she was about to go up to her room, she saw letter fall from the postman's bag. Gasping, she quickly flew out the door and saw a light breeze blowing it about. She caught it in mid air and took it to the postman.

"Oh, thank you, Bubbles," he smiled. "I didn't even notice. Mrs. Carson would be pretty upset not to get this letter."

"Do letters get lost a lot," Bubbles asked?

"Well, we do the best we can, but some things just slip through the cracks. No one is perfect, Bubbles."

"What about letters to Santa?"

"Oh, well, of course we do our best to make sure those letters always get up north. But I'd bet even if one did get away, Santa would know about it."

Bubbles was worried about her special letter to Santa as she opened up the mailbox on her way back into the house. There was something big and bulky in it: a J. Victoria Spencer Peterman Crew's Cutting Image Secrets catalogue. And there, right on the front page, she spotted a teaser picture for the perfect present. She made up her mind right then to get it for Mojo herself. For some reason this was just too important to risk on a lost letter. It was something that Mojo could surely use after a hard day of plotting to destroy her and her sisters. She beamed as she opened the catalogue and found the item listing. Her expression sank when she saw it was very pricey.

She went back inside and confided in the Professor.

"So you still want to go through with this, huh?" he smiled, with a certain amount of pride in his little blond daughter.

She nodded.

"And you insist on paying for it yourself?"

She nodded again.

"Well, let's see. We'll order it now, and you can do few extra chores around here for a few months and we'll call it even. On Christmas eve, we'll wrap it and you can deliver it."

"Thanks, Perfess'r," she smiled.

More time passed, and there were more battles and quarrels and homework and, for Bubbles, more chores. At first the Professor gave her simple easy things to do, but Bubbles, while realizing the Professor was being a kind father, asked for more meaningful things to do. She really wanted to earn the money and was very faithful to her promise even when her sisters became suspicious as to what she was doing.

The week before Thanksgiving Day, there was tremendous battle with Mojo that began that afternoon and lasted well into the night. Mojo was defeated again, but the girls came home all tired, disheveled and hurt. The Professor looked them over and decided that a lot of bed rest would be sufficient. Tomorrow was Friday and the Professor told the girls they could sleep in, and he would call Ms. Keane to get them excused from school.

"Oh, and Bubbles," he said quietly to her, "no need for you to do your special ….er, stuff tonight. It can wait."

Bubbles almost started up the stairs when she stopped, shook her head and said, "No, Perfess'r, a promise is a promise." Then she headed into kitchen and started cleaning under the sink. The Professor watched this with amazement and no small amount of pride, while Blossom watched with puzzlement and Buttercup with suspicion.

"What's she doin' all this for, anyway?"

"None of your business, Buttercup," said the Professor sternly.

"I think I know," she smiled slyly.

"Leave her alone, Buttercup," said Blossom as they went upstairs to go to bed. "Whatever the reason, it must be very important to her."

But Buttercup wouldn't let go of it and kept asking Bubbles what was going on. Bubbles knew if she said anything, Buttercup would tease her for it and that might weaken her determination to see it through. So she stubbornly held onto her secret. Blossom saw all of this and whenever Buttercup would get too pushy about it, she would run interference for Bubbles. And thus passed the last few weeks and, finally, the big night arrived. The Professor brought the present downstairs to wrap it.

"Ooo, that's really neat," said Buttercup with a smirk. "But how come it's not wrapped? Who's it for?"

"For Mojo," Bubbles explained, proudly.

"I knew it!" exclaimed Buttercup. "This is what you've been doing all the extra chores for! That stupid idea of giving Mojo a present! After all the trouble he's given us this year? Bubbles, you are something else."

Everyone looked sternly at her.

"I would love to have something like this. What a waste of time, Bubbles."

"It's her time to waste, Buttercup," said Blossom with a smile of appreciation for Bubbles persistence. "It's a very clever choice. Mojo had better like it. C'mon, Buttercup. Bubbles did all the hard work. Let's help wrap it."

"I don't believe this," she said, but nevertheless began helping Blossom and the Professor wrap it while Bubbles daydreamed how this good will gesture could play out. Maybe Mojo would accept the present and not go out and abuse his simian tummy and brain and body out of loneliness or whatever it was that made him do it. Maybe he wouldn't make any trouble on Christmas day - although Bubbles realized Mojo never had made any trouble on Christmas day and briefly wondered why. _'Maybe,'_ thought Bubbles, as the beneficial fallout from her good deed multiplied in her mind, _'he'll even be grateful and maybe he won't be so mean anymore.'_ Maybe this will be the beginning of a turnaround where Mojo would start using his genius for good, and maybe her sisters wouldn't have to fight him anymore and there would be harmony in Townsville. As her expectations spiraled out of all reasonable proportion, the Professor caught the dreamy look in her eyes.

She prepared to head out, and Buttercup opened the door.

"Are you sure you don't want us to go along?" she asked.

"Yes," said the Professor, "you're sure you'll be safe, honey?"

She nodded and smiled. Would they ever stop thinking of her as the baby of the family, she wondered? And then as she turned to go, she stopped and looked back at the Professor quizzically.

"Perfess'r?"

"Yes, Bubbles?"

"Do you think this will do any good?"

Whatever Bubbles meant by "do any good", the Professor wasn't about to say anything to dampen Bubbles enthusiasm or disparage the effort. However, he did worry about what exactly Bubbles was expecting here and about the unlikelihood of it happening, given who the recipient of her charity was. Instead he looked thoughtful, and then said, "Well, I really don't know if it'll do any good for Mojo. But I know someone it already has done a lot of good for."

She smiled as she flew away.

Actually, the Professor had a pretty good idea of what could happen though he hoped he was wrong. This could end badly, he thought. A determined expression crept over his face. He got out his coat, and as he pulled out his car keys, Blossom and Buttercup asked him where he was going.

"Girls," he said conspiratorially, "I'm going out to buy some insurance. Keep a watch out for Bubbles."

IV.

Bubbles arced high into the sky and glided most of the way into Townsville. Mojo's observatory was well lit. Obviously, Mojo was home. Bubbles smile got bigger and bigger as she got closer and closer to the volcano top laboratory. She dithered over whether to leave the present anonymously, or present it in person. She didn't want Mojo to be too puzzled about the source of the gift, but Mojo was rarely happy to see the girls. So she went ahead and signed her name to a little card and slipped it halfway into a seam in the wrapping. Peeking in a window, she saw Mojo rapt in thought and hovering over a planning table. She deposited the present by the front door, knocked three times, and then quickly flew around behind the dome. Looking in another window she checked to see if Mojo had heard the knocking. He was still standing over the drafting table. She frowned.

"Ah, yessss, " said Mojo to himself, "yessss, then I do this and voila! No more Powa-puff Gulls! Muwahahahahahaha …"

Bam! Bam! BAM!

"What? Who dares interrupt my maniacal laughter when I am about to begin construction on My Most Ultimate Plan Ever to Destroy the Powa-puff Gulls Once and for All! For it is a busy time and I do not wish to be disturbed, which means that I will not stand for anyone interrupting me! I have to begin construction on My Most Ultimate Plan to Destroy the Powa-puff Gulls Once and for All, based on the plan which I have just finished and over which I was engaging in a robust, hearty and full-throated bout of villainous laughter - Muwahahahahahahaha … -with which I shall now continue."

"Muwahahahahahahahahahah …"

Mojo looked at the clock on his planning table.

"Oops! I almost forgot the party which I must leave to attend very soon, which cannot start without my presence since it is a party for villains only, of which I am the most important one!"

BAM! BAM! BAM!

'_Curses,'_ Mojo muttered as he checked his security monitors to see who was there. His frown deepened when he saw no one. He reached for a handy weapon, hid it behind his back and walked to the door. Opening it carefully, he confirmed no one was there. Scratching his head, he looked down and saw something covered in shiny green paper, and bedecked with a red bow and ribbons. Above him, just out of sight, Bubbles smiled. She couldn't see Mojo, but could see the present bathed in light coming through the door he'd just been opened.

"Hmmmm, what is this? Someone has disturbed my brilliant planning to leave something for me which I see before me now because someone has left it for me. It appears to be a gift wrapped package which means that it is wrapped and a gift. Furthermore, there is a card wedged in the seam of the packaging with which it has been wrapped thus confirming that this is a gift wrapped package since such packages often come with cards identifying the giver of gifts such as this gift before me. And since it is before me, it must be for me. But who would leave a gift for the Evil Mojo Jojo? Which is me: for I am evil and I am Mojo Jojo. Perhaps I should check this card."

Bubbles was puzzled about why the present hadn't disappeared inside? Attuning her super hearing, she eavesdropped on Mojo's soliloquy. Mojo was reaching gingerly for the card when he drew back.

"I do not understand why someone would leave a gift for me. I do not do the sort of things which provide adequate reasons for people to leave gifts for me like the gift before me. Unless … they had an ulterior motive for leaving a gift. Perhaps this suspicious looking package is not a gift but a trap disguised as a gift with which someone is trying to fool Mojo Jojo, and thus this card which appears to be part of the gift will in fact trigger the trap with which someone is trying to trap me. But Mojo Jojo is no fool, for such a trap might fool a lesser Genius Super Villain, but it will not fool me for I am not your average Genius Super Villain. I am most decidedly above average and thus it shall not work, which is to say, I, Mojo Jojo, shall not be fooled by this trick with which someone is trying to trick me."

Bubbles rolled her eyes and sighed.

"I shall scan it with the many devices I have for scanning. And after scanning it with those many devices, I will know for certain what is inside this suspicious looking package and be sure this is, in fact, a gift and not a trap …"

Mojo retreated inside as Bubbles crossed her arms and sighed some more. He returned with something mounted on his back. The pack had numerous handheld attachments connected by cables. Selecting one of them, Mojo began to scan. Bubbles crept forward over the dome enough to see what Mojo was doing. She sighed and rested her head on one hand.

"Initial scans reveal that there is a mechanism of indeterminate function inside this package which I think is a trap of some sort. However, there appears to be no internal power source, and the presence of a power cord of the type one plugs into a wall socket indicates that the power is to be supplied externally, which would be why there is a power cord. Furthermore this mechanism seems to be surrounded by a great deal of plastic, also of indeterminate function. What could this be?"

Bubbles threw her hands up as if to say "why don't you just open it? D'uh," and settled on her back, flustered by Mojo's paranoia.

"Well, it appears, for now to be what it appears to be: namely, a gift. And there is no indication that the card of the type that normally accompanies such gifts is attached to any kind of trigger mechanism which this package would need if it were in fact a trap with which to trap me, which is to say Mojo Jojo."

Bubbles looked hopeful as Mojo holstered the scanner and reached again for the card. He opened it and read it, and then smirked with amusement.

"Awww, that's so cute. Powa-puff Gull Bubbles has left Mojo Jojo - which is to say, me - a Christmas present. Isn't she sweet, adorable and … all that other stupid stuff?"

Bubbles smiled contentedly.

"Muwahahahahaha! She clearly does not get it. She does not understand that Mojo Jojo is not someone to give presents to, for Mojo Jojo is not a parent, sibling, friend, cousin twice removed, school chum, army buddy, long lost uncle or any such acquaintance to whom one would give gifts. I am … Mojo Jojo, decidedly above average super-genius villain and sworn enemy of the Powa-puff gulls, which is to say I, Mojo Jojo, am evil! Muwahahahahahaaaaa … And I WILL destroy her and her sisters. I will do this because I am bad - I am evil - I am … Mojo Jojo! That is what she clearly does not get. Nevertheless, … I must remember to send her a thank you card before I destroy her."

Bubbles giggled a bit, thinking her mission accomplished. But Mojo wasn't done yet.

"To send her a thank you card," the Mad Monkey mused, "I shall have to delay my plans to destroy them tomorrow after I come home from the party - at which my attendance is required because it is for villains only - since it will take one or two days for the card to arrive at Professor Utonium's house. Yes, that only seems sporting for what is the point of sending a thank you card for a gift if I destroy the Powa-puff Gulls before …"

Bubbles smiled even more.

"But wait!" he said, lingering over the word. "Of course … That is what they are expecting … yeesssssss, for Mojo Jojo to be influenced by this trinket into delaying the implementation of My Most Ultimate Plan Ever to Destroy the Powa-puff Gulls Once and for All. And furthermore, they want Mojo Jojo to receive this gift in the hope that he will try to use it by plugging it in and then … Muwhahahahahahaha! So it is a trap! A very clever trap, but one which has failed, for Mojo Jojo cannot be tricked or bribed! But I will analyze this trap to see if I can learn how they discovered my ultimate plan to destroy them in the first place."

Bubbles was frustrated as Mojo went inside. That frustration doubled as Mojo returned with a motorized trolley and crane of the sort used by bomb disposal squads. Deploying the claw, he picked up the package and brought it inside. As he prepared to examine the package further, Bubbles, her face pressed against a portal in the dome, followed his doings. First, Mojo placed the package behind a blast shield. Then he scanned the package with most powerful scanning equipment. This revealed a lot of folded up yellow plastic surrounding the mechanism that he'd seen with his smaller scanner. Then with his virtual goggles and gloves, he manipulated a series of robot arms to open the package. Grinning as he opened the box, he removed the contents. The power cord flopped about, loosely trailing behind the rest of it as an instruction sheet and brochure wafted to the floor.

"Now then," he smiled, as he gripped the cord by its plug with a robot arm, "I will send an electrical charge into the power cord, and we shall see what manner of trap -which has failed to trap me - this is."

Mojo took off his virtual gloves and hit a button to send power through the robot arm. The package came to life, and the plastic began inflating. Had it happened more slowly the present might have survived long enough for Mojo to see what it was. But it inflated so explosively Mojo was alarmed. Bubbles watched in horror, and breathlessly squealed "no!" as he drew the weapon from behind his back, and cut loose with a barrage of laser blasts that destroyed the present instantly and thoroughly.

Outside the dome, Bubbles just sat there utterly stunned at what she'd just seen. Mojo Jojo was so insanely evil, he couldn't even accept a simple Christmas present. She quavered between rage and weeping, as she took another look inside and saw him examining the remnants of her present. Fire danced in her eyes as rage won out for the moment, and she exploded through the roof of the dome.

"Aha! Come to finish what you've started!" bellowed Mojo as he fired volley of shots at Bubbles that missed her and scorched the roof. "Your trap has failed, my sweet widdle Bubbles! Where are your sisters?" he yelled as he looked around and then drew down on her with his weapon.

Bubbles, too furious to respond, continued to dodge the laser blasts which slammed into various objects in Mojo's lab. The last blast slammed into Mojo's planning table, punching a big hole in it, and incinerating Mojo's Most Ultimate Plan Ever for Destroying the Powerpuff Girls Once and for All.

"ARRRRGHHH!" Mojo hollered. "You will pay for destroying my plans, you ….!"

"I didn't destroy anything, you doo doo headed ninny!" she screamed and then charged Mojo who failed to recover from his consternation in time. Bubbles knocked the weapon from his hand with her eye beams, grabbed Mojo by the cape, hefted him into the air and dropped him hard amidst the remnants of her labor.

"I don't believe it," she began ranting as she paced back and forth in front of the nonplussed Mojo.

"I did extra chores for two months to pay for it …"

"I did not ask you to …"

"QUIET!" she shrieked. "Buttercup made fun of me for it, and I almost didn't do it …"

"Well, Buttercup is known for that sort of behav …"

"QUIET! Even Blossom didn't think this was a good idea …"

"Well, on the whole, Blossom is a very level-headed …"

"Mojo? Sweetie?" said Bubbles, and she put a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, Bubbles?"

"I'm ranting here," she said calmly. "Will you please … shut … up?"

"Yes, of course. I apologize. Please continue with your excoriations."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"After all the times you attacked us this year," she continued vigorously, "I almost didn't do it … and THIS …"

Bubbles picked up the brochure from the floor and shoved it in Mojo's face.

"THIS! … is all it was, Mojo Jojo."

"Hot and Humid," Mojo read the product blurb quietly, "Machete swinging, sweat dripping. The Central American jungle is thick and the air heavy and close. Need rest and a cool drink. I hack through to a clearing and like a Mayan temple gleaming in the sun, there is it: the epitome, nay, the very Parnassus of tropical styled comfort:

The Self-inflating Banana Shaped Lounge Chair. A bead of water slides down the glass of lemonade in the adjustable cup holder. I settle into its soft embrace – bliss."

Bubbles glowered at him angrily, still stifling her tears.

"That is a misconception … and that blurb was pretentious and over-written, and contents of the J. Victoria Spencer Peterman Crew's Cutting Image Secrets catalogue are overhyped, overpriced and overrated," Mojo offered didactically.

"QUIET! YOU BIG DOO DOO HEAD!" she yelled as she rapped his helmet three times, driving Mojo into the floor of his observatory. "I've seen'd the light," she sniffed sadly, surrendering to the sobbing part of her. "You're hopeless, *sniff* an' me and my sisters will never have any peace and quiet … *sniff* until you just … *sniff* GO AWAY, MISTER MOJO!"

"Waaaaaahhhhhh!" she screamed as she left, smashing through the roof of Mojo's observatory.

V.

Bubbles again took the long way home. She just couldn't face any taunting from Buttercup right now. She sobbed for a bit longer, and wondered why she hadn't realized something like this was the likeliest outcome. Soon, though, the people below, noticing her blue light trail against the night sky, were waving to her. "Happy holidays, Bubbles" they cried out. She dried her eyes a bit, smiled reflexively and waved back. How happy they all looked and how beautifully the town was decorated. She saw carolers singing, and kids licking candy canes, and in front of City Hall, some sort of impromptu party had erupted. The mayor, with his keen eye for a good photo-op, quickly got into the Santa suit he'd rented for the staff Christmas party last week and was passing treats to the kids and cider to the parents with Sara Bellum, resplendent in red velvet, assisting him. And as Bubbles took in all the revelry below, she found less and less need for tears. With happiness and anticipation abounding all around her, the tears were swallowed up by the joy Bubbles always felt in the happiness of others. And as she drew strength and solace from it, she decided Mojo's bitterness just wasn't worth the loss of her own joy. More people noticed her, waved, and shouted additional greetings to her. She waved back and even smiled a little, chuckling at herself and her idealism as she did.

'_Was she actually trying to win Mojo over to the Powerpuff way of things,'_ she wondered?

It did seem pretty silly now. But at least the Professor was right. The present did the paranoiac primate no good, but Bubbles labors were not wasted. She was better for it, even if Mojo wasn't. And in a way, Buttercup was right too. Her sister could be blunt and unkind, but she was a pretty good judge of things. It had been really naïve of Bubbles to expect Mojo to instantly conform to her sense of "right relationship". She would have to accept that no matter how hard and innocently she wished for something, she, like everyone else, would rarely get her way. She sighed and kept smiling as she greeted a few more people and then headed home. She was still pretty sad, but at least she wasn't a basket case and could face down Buttercup, if necessary.

Blossom and Buttercup had kept a concerned and watchful lookout. Buttercup was especially worried, checking out the window every five minutes, and muttering under her breath what she'd do to if Mojo tried to take advantage of her sister. She was also a little ashamed of herself for being so hard on Bubbles. She knew it shouldn't be that way. In her rare moments of introspection she wondered why she often picked on Bubbles. But one thing was sure. No matter how hard she tried not to, she could never stop it once she got going. She would never understand what motivated Bubbles to get a present for Mojo. But, Buttercup was fiercely loyal to her sisters where any outside threat was concerned. If Mojo did anything to hurt Bubbles feelings or anything else, oh, how she would make him pay.

With the approach of Christmas, Blossom too had figured out beforehand why Bubbles was doing all the extra chores. As Bubbles doggedly continued in her self appointed duty, Blossom found herself feeling the same kind of pride in her that the Professor had. She often talked of big, organized, perfected plans for good causes, but Bubbles, for reasons known only to her, had one-upped Blossom by choosing one person - the person who would probably appreciate it least and, therefore, probably needed it most - and performing an honest and laborious act of charity for him. Sweet Little Bubbles, indeed.

"Alright, if she's not back in the next five minutes, I'm gonna go look for her," said Buttercup impatiently.

"Calm down, Buttercup. If anything went wrong, we'd have heard it. Nobody screams as loud as Bubbles."

"Mojo will," Buttercup fumed, as she looked out the window, "if he tries …"

Blossom joined her at the window.

"Here she comes," said an obviously relieved Buttercup.

Blossom hadn't expected much to come from this, but even she was surprised when Bubbles came in looking very sad. One could tell she'd been crying.

"What happened?" asked Buttercup.

Bubbles sniffled a little, and shook her head, and her sisters understood as much as they needed about what had happened.

"I'm … sorry it didn't turn out like you wanted, Bubbles," said Blossom.

"Me too," said Buttercup so gently, sincerely and even kindly that Bubbles almost hugged her.

"Tell us about it when you feel better, okay?"

Bubbles nodded and went upstairs to be alone for a while. The phone rang and Blossom answered it.

After Bubbles left, Mojo sat in the midst of the debris for few minutes. He picked up a piece of the yellow plastic and fingered it, meditatively. Finally noticing the clock, he roused himself a little and looked around at his wrecked lab. The event reminder on his clock beeped. It was time for him to go to the Villains Christmas Eve party. As usual, he had received his invitation two weeks ago, and for some reason he was always careful to never miss this party. He'd never really thought about why. But tonight he did think about it, briefly. If he was truly evil, then surely this night represented a backhanded success. He had managed, probably, to ruin sweet little Bubbles Christmas, and had done so without any effort on his part. One pull of a trigger and all her hard work went up in a puff of smoke. Merry Christmas, Mojo Jojo!

So why couldn't he laugh with villainous glee over it all? And what did all this have to do with a sudden reticence to go to the party now descending upon him?

Then he growled, shrugged it off and prepared for his annual pre-party ritual of disparaging all the revelry en route. The night was warm, and as he secured his residence somehow he failed to notice the piece of plastic still in his grasp. He walked through the town as usual, trying to muster up the energy to be haughtily angry at the stupid, crass, bourgeois happiness of the Townsvillers. But it was no good. "Curses," he muttered as he realized that in some strange way, Bubbles had gotten to him.

He finally arrived in the seamier side of Townsville and found the corner building where the party was always held. Still in a funk, he went inside and bellied up to the bar. As usual, he was the first to arrive. The bartender was in the back, occupied with something. Mojo perfunctorily glanced around. The place was festively decorated. In fact it was very different from the outside of the building. Outside: ramshackle, dirty and abandoned, inside: clean, sharp, and very comfortable. It was almost as if one stepped into a whole other world when passing through the door.

Finally, the bartender emerged, came up to Mojo and asked cheerily "The usual?"

Mojo was about to answer 'yes' when he realized there was something in his hand. It was a tattered piece of cloth and plastic, singed around the edges. Mojo realized how disconnected from himself he felt as he looked at the tattered piece of the present, forlornly. Or was it with disgust? At what? Bubbles naiveté, or himself?

Suddenly, he became aware that the bartender was looking strangely and even probingly at him. After a few moments, the gaze changed to a very knowing look. Mojo, evil though he was, shuddered at the gaze. Somehow, he knew! Everything that happened in the last two hours was transparently clear to this strange bartender. He knew what the piece of plastic in Mojo's hand was. He knew it was once a gift, carefully selected, honestly acquired and offered in simple sincerity and kindness. He knew that Mojo had blown it away out of raging paranoia. Or was it merely raging rage? Or something even worse? Was it failure of spirit and imagination that prevented him from ever seeing anything but enemies and grievances everywhere? Surely the annoying Powerpuff Girl was been lying about the present? It had to have been a trick of some sort, didn't it?

And, then, to rationalize away his wanton foolishness and, perhaps unintentional, cruelty he is saw that it was a trick of sorts. But it was a good trick, and attempt to trick Mojo into a way of looking at the world a little differently, if only for a few moments.

"And that is the trap with which she is trying to trap me …"

"The usual?" interrupted the bartender. But his tone was much different now. There was something declamatory and demanding, and filled with authority. There was no malice, but Mojo perceived that the bartender was not asking about drinks, per se. It was, through the choice of drinking or not drinking, the offering of some far, far greater choice - with some sort of verdict to follow.

'_How does he know?'_ came the unbidden thought.

Mojo Jojo wavered for a moment, suspended between 'yes' and 'no'. And then came the response, _'It is NOT his business!'_

Mojo, settling back into himself, cast aside the piece of plastic, looked at the bartender, and said with pointed defiance "Yesssss …"

And the bartender fixed Mojo with a stare of disgust and, though it had only the tiniest hint of sadness, there was such a angelic poignancy in it that Mojo could no longer look at the bartender, and avoided his eyes, though not his drinks, for the remainder of the evening. The choice was made, the moment passed, the rest of the villains arrived and the party began in earnest.

The Professor had just gotten off the phone with Blossom. Bubbles had returned home. She wasn't crying, but she clearly had been. Whatever happened, it wasn't good. Though it was very late, the Professor persevered until he'd found the kind of store he was looking for. It was closed, but he was able to plead with the owner, Mr. Brunelli, and got ten minutes to try and find something. He quickly but judiciously assessed this particular selection of gifts with a practiced eye honed by fatherly experience. This would have to be a good one. Glancing here and there, he smiled as his gaze finally came to rest upon perfection.

'_She'll love it. To death, probably.'_

"Thanks so much for letting me in after you were closed," said the Professor as he paid the vendor.

"Mio piacere," said Mister Brunelli warmly. "Buon Natale, Professore,"

"And a Happy New Year to you," Utonium replied.

An hour after Mojo had arrived to kick off the party, the 'bartender', no longer in disguise, emerged through the back door of the abandoned building where he held this annual, dirty, depressing, but necessary ritual. As in years before, the villains were nestled all snug in their wee little dreads on the ground just twenty feet from the front door of the same old abandoned building. He was stuffing something yellow and tattered into his pocket as he climbed into the sleigh.

"Well, Dasher, I think I've got this 'saving Townsville's Christmas' matter down to a science." Dasher and the team, in full and glorious tack, snorted their grim approval of the matter and pawed at the ground, anxious to hit the skies. There would be no white Christmas in Townsville this year for the night air was agreeably warm and clear. The lead reindeer huffed twice, led the team into the sky, and banked them eastward. As they headed out of Townsville, the driver, with a practiced flick of his wrist, angled them toward the house where that smart kid and his three little girls lived. On approach, they saw the smart kid get out of his car and head into the house. There was a wicker basket with silver ribbons under his arm, and something in it with a gold ribbon around its neck wriggling and squirming excitedly. He disappeared inside, and as the sleigh passed over the house, the sleigh driver smiled; for he heard, unmistakably, from that lovely place of warmth, peace and love, the utterly joyous and very Bubbly exclamation …

"PUPPY!"


End file.
